


Both Soiled Hands

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bounty Hunting, Hate Sex, Hints of Self-Loathing, Idealism, M/M, MayThe4th Treat, Pre-Rogue One, Rare Pair, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: Cassian is tracked down by a Mandalorian looking for one of his old, corrupt Imperial contacts. There are a lot of people who could be out looking and Cassian doesn’t like any of the possibilities. He likes the Mandalorian’s attitude even less.





	Both Soiled Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [days4daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/gifts).



> Weird intra-canon crossover pairs are one of my many weaknesses, so I had to treat for your awesome prompt. Hope you like it!
> 
> Shout out to my awesome beta.

Cassian noticed that he was being watched. His work for the Rebellion had given him a sense for it and he lifted his drink to cover the way he scanned the cantina. There. The Mandalorian at the bar. They paid way too much for their drink and the bartender wasn’t nearly as subtle when it gestured in Cassian’s direction. This was what he got for having a preferred cantina for meeting contacts. 

Cassian finished his drink, slamming the glass on the table and rising in one movement. He made sure to wobble a little and look dazed, even though his drink hadn’t even contained alcohol. Ideally he’d sneak out, but his instincts told him that wasn’t going to happen. Perhaps it was better to confront the problem head on.

He made his way back to the bar and bumped into the Mandalorian. He slurred an apology and then turned to the bartender. ‘Another of the same,’ he requested, putting a few credits down on the bar-top. The bartender scooped them up in one clawed hand and poured the drink. Cassian took the drink back to his table. 

The Mandalorian wasn’t feigning disinterest anymore and walked over too. When Cassian sat, they took the seat opposite. ‘Cassian Andor?’ they asked. The voice was deep, maybe male? It was hard to tell with Mandalorians.

‘Who?’ Cassian asked, his heart speeding just a bit. He was sure his expression was blank.

‘Pretty good. You didn’t even try for the “who wants to know?” response. But I’m not here for you, so you don’t need to play games. I’m looking for Tricita Stavud and everyone I’ve talked to about it says you were her main Rebel contact.’

Cassian narrowed his eyes. Stavud was a corrupt Empire official. If you paid her enough she’d turn a blind eye to Rebel activities in her sector and rumour had it that she had similar deals with some of the big crime bosses. She’d occasionally pass information to the Rebellion too… for the right price, of course. Only half her intel had ever panned out.

That was before everything caught up with her and she’d been forced to flee the disciplinary actions of the Empire. There were a lot of people who could conceivably be after Stavud and Cassian didn’t much like any of the possibilities. He liked the Mandalorian’s attitude even less.

‘Maybe I should have gone with “who wants to know?” because I have no idea who you are, and so far you haven’t given me a reason to tell you anything,’ said Cassian.

The Mandalorian leaned back in their chair. ‘How rude of me. I’m Boba Fett.’

Cassian froze for a second. That was all Fett said, no posturing, no threat, just the calm implacable fact of it. He knew who Fett was. Even if he hadn’t known Fett’s shady ties to the Empire, his reputation in Hutt Space was big enough to speak for itself. Cassian took a sip of his drink to stall and to wet his suddenly dry mouth. 

‘So now you’ve given me a good solid reason not to tell you a single kriffing thing,’ said Cassian. He stared at the slit in Fett’s faceplate as he spoke. Never show weakness, not for a second. 

Fett snorted beneath his helmet. ‘Then how’s this for a reason. The Empire offers a thousand credits to bring in confirmed Rebels. Now that’s way below my usual pay-grade, fuel-change basically, but I’m willing to drag you in if you give me a good enough reason. I don’t care about your little Rebellion, but I’m sure someone in the Empire with a lot of patience and some nasty tools would care a lot. If you tell me what I want to know, however, I’ll go off and hunt Stavud instead.’

Hot anger rose in Cassian. It wasn’t just the threat, however much that viscerally affected him, it was the casual dismissing of the Rebellion itself. Fett was the sort of man who had no ideals, no principles, and had probably never fought for a cause in his life. That’s what happened when you lacked any sense of duty beyond profit.

Cassian held his anger in check and casually placed Fett’s main blaster on the table between them, finger over the trigger. He’d palmed it earlier when he’d deliberately bumped into him. Fett’s head tilted just a fraction and it was clear he was eyeing the muzzle pointed right at him.

‘How about you go off on your little hunt and I don’t shoot you,’ Cassian said conversationally.

‘You have to know that’s not my only blaster.’

‘But it is the one currently pointed at you and I’m guessing that, at this range, your armour wouldn’t be enough to stop the bolt.’

Fett made a sound that was almost certainly amusement and Cassian’s grip on the blaster tightened in irritation. ‘It’s my blaster and my armour. I know the specs,’ he said. ‘Alright, I can see why someone like you got sent to deal with a corrupt Imperial. How about we start over?’

‘How about you take your Imperial affiliations and take a short jump past a long asteroid field.’

‘Look, Andor, I’ve seen enough to know your Rebellion is underfunded. I’ll pay for your information if it’s good enough.’ Cassian hesitated, hating the fact that Fett was right. The Rebellion could always use more credits, even from dubious sources. ‘What do you care about a washed-up Imperial anyway. Don’t tell me she’s joined your lot?’ Fett continued.

Cassian snorted. ‘She wouldn’t want to join us and we wouldn’t want to take her. She’s a coward and barely worth her intel most of the time.’

‘Then you have no reason to protect her and if you’ve heard of me, then you’ve probably heard of my reputation for fair dealing.’

At least Fett wasn’t stupid enough to try reaching for credits with a blaster trained on him. No, his gauntleted hands were flattened against the table-top, right where Cassian could see them. ‘What are you paying?’ Cassian asked wearily.

‘What information do you have?’ Fett shot back.

‘A definite location.’

‘Huh. More than I was expecting. Five thousand credits.’

Cassian hid his surprise. He’d been expecting a fraction of that. ‘That sounds about right,’ he said quickly.

Fett tilted his head forward. ‘It’s also to ransom my blaster back.’

Cassian barked a laugh. ‘I thought you had others on you.’

Fett shrugged. ‘I do, but that one’s my favourite.’ He leaned in. ‘I also think you don’t know enough about Mandalorians to work out how stealing my blaster looks from my end.’

Cassian raised an eyebrow. ‘I know your lot are militant. Did I shame your honour, or something?’

‘Nah, you just flirted with me. Pretty explicitly too and, considering how we’ve just met, pretty shamelessly.’

Cassian blinked. His knowledge of Mandalorian culture was vague and patchy at best, but that sounded completely made up. ‘I think you’re kriffing with me,’ he said.

‘I could be. If you wanted me to. It’s not just anyone who can a lift my main blaster without me noticing.’

‘I certainly seem to have drawn your attention now,’ said Cassian, his voice deepening slightly. The rejoinder came naturally to him. A hint of flirting added to a threat was the most effective way to unsettle dangerous contacts. He wondered if that was what Fett was doing. He wondered if he was doing the same thing.

‘You have,’ said Fett.

‘Take off your helmet.’

Fett hesitated, his hands still flat on the table, the blaster still resting casually between them with Cassian’s fingers now resting on the trigger guard. ‘That’s forward of you.’

‘No, I’m pretty sure you’re the one being forward. I just want to see if you are who you say.’

Fett lifted his hands and disengaged his helmet, before drawing it off with a sigh. He hid it well, but his shoulders tensed when he bared his face. 

Cassian quickly memorised the details of Fett's appearance from habit. He had a nice enough face, but it was more than the shape of his features that had Cassian seriously considering the proposition. Fett’s eyes were hard and focused, assessing. He was wearing a smirk now, but the faint lines suggested his typical expression was a lot a grimmer.

Cassian kept his personal life well clear of the Rebellion. There were people he admired, certainly, and even a few crushes he’d secretly harboured over the years, but personal entanglements were a bad idea. It made it difficult to make the hard choices. It was hard enough doing what was necessary without having to think about what it would be like to face a partner afterwards.

He didn’t trust Fett. Fett didn’t trust him. Cassian wondered what it said about him that he found that reassuring. Fett was a shady bounty hunter who likely didn’t believe in anything past his next payment, but he wouldn’t have batted an eye at Cassian’s history. He’d probably done worse and he’d probably _enjoyed_ doing it. 

‘We do this before the exchange,’ Cassian said.

Fett’s smirk broadened. ‘Sure, we stay useful to each other. I don’t suppose you’d agree to come back to my ship?’

Cassian snorted. ‘Not for anything.’

Fett shot him a calculating look, but let it lie. ‘Thought not. A place like this has rooms, and you seem to like it here well enough.’

Cassian tensed. The reminder that Fett had tracked him down, probably through the handful of habits he had, was unwelcome. ‘You’re paying,’ was all he said back.

Fett nodded and stood, picking up his helmet. Cassian followed his lead. When he slid the stolen blaster into his belt he noticed Fett watching him with an oddly intent expression. Maybe he hadn’t been lying about Mandalorian culture norms.

///

Cassian kept just behind Fett as they made their way to the room. When they reached the door, Fett keyed in the entry code and strode in, placing his helmet on the small table. There'd been tension in his posture ever since he'd taken it off, but it didn't stop him casually turning his back to Cassian like this. 

It felt like being dismissed as a threat, even though it was equally likely to be a meagre show of trust. Either way it annoyed Cassain and he pushed Fett back against the wall as soon as he turned around. Fett was heavy with his armour and Cassian had to unbalance him by hooking a foot around his ankle.

It was fascinating to see Fett register the move, prepare to resist, and then decide to go with it, all in the space of a few seconds. The expressions played openly across his face and Cassian marvelled at it. It must have been the helmet. He couldn’t imagine signalling so much with the sort of dangers people like them faced. Having a good sabbac-face had saved his life before. 

Cassian grabbed at Fett’s shoulders and pressed his lips against Fett’s stupidly expressive mouth. His lips were warm and dry and Cassian bit down on the bottom one, swiping his tongue over it. Fett made a surprised noise and grabbed Cassian’s hips, pulling them closer. He surged into the kiss, biting back and digging his fingers into Cassian’s flesh.

This was exactly what Cassian wanted because he wouldn’t have to worry, wouldn’t have to hold back. It was hard to have any illusions about what this was when he was pressed up against a self-serving bounty hunter.

He pulled back for air. Fett’s hands were still on him. ‘Get rid of the armour,’ he demanded.

‘Get rid of the weapon belt,’ Fett said, smirking.

The teasing expression made Cassian scowl. Fett’s amusement had been grating against him since the beginning. This wasn’t some light-hearted game, this was blowing off steam with someone from the same sordid world as him. 

Cassian stepped back far enough to undo his belt, but didn’t draw it off. Instead he stared back at Fett, waiting. He didn’t need to say anything. Fett grinned at him and started in on his armour. He pulled off his chest-plate and put it down next to the helmet. 

Cassian crossed the room and dropped his belt by the door. He didn’t add any of his concealed weapons or even take off any clothes. This was going to be quick and impersonal. 

He moved back toward Fett, who’d finished taking off the rest of his armour. Cassian’s gaze automatically swept over the bounty hunter’s body, noting the likely places for keeping weapons and assessing the potential muscle strength now that the armour wasn’t in the way. He wasn’t sure he’d win a toe-to-toe fight if it came down to it.

Cassian moved in and this time Fett grabbed him when he got in range. Cassian’s back hit the wall and he immediately surged forward, pushing back at Fett.

‘Easy,’ said Fett. ‘I’m not looking for a fight.’

‘Maybe I am,’ Cassian replied.

Fett crooked a smile at him. ‘You really don’t like me, do you?’

‘You’re a bounty hunter with no loyalty beyond your next pay. You find the Rebellion _amusing_ and I doubt you believe in anything beyond a blaster in your hand, so no, I don’t like you. That’s not why I’m here.’ 

Anger flashed in Fett’s eyes and he leaned in. ‘I’m not about to tell some idealistic little Rebel about what I believe in. But I will tell you that I don't mix business and pleasure. You want a fight, do something that makes you worth dragging in. I’m here for sex, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ Fett pressed himself against Cassian, the hard shape of his cock unmistakable even through the layers of both their clothes.

Cassian’s erection twitched at that. The adrenaline in his body was only helping matters. ‘Yeah, I noticed. I’m here for sex too, but I’m not going down easy.’

Fett chuckled, a fraction of the tension leaving his stance. ‘Sure.’ With that he slid to his knees, his hands gliding down Cassian’s body as he went until they settled at the top of his pants. ‘This okay then?’ he asked.

Cassian swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He hadn’t expected this at all. ‘Yeah,’ he said before he’d really thought about it. It felt like a bad idea to let Fett put his mouth on his cock, but Cassian had taken stupider risks and he'd been unprepared for the fierce surge of _want_ sparked by Fett's offer.

Fett smirked up at him and pulled Cassian’s pants down right to his calves, before leaning in and running his tongue up the underside of Cassian’s cock. Cassian groaned at the slick feel of it and leaned back harder against the wall. His distaste at having been pushed up against a wall evaporated as Fett wrapped a hand around his cock and started sucking on the head.

The wet heat had Cassian’s hips twitching forward before he could stop himself and Fett pushed him back again with his free hand. Cassian had to force himself not to retaliate. It was reasonable for Fett to want to keep him still for this. Cassian contented himself with tangling a hand in Fett’s hair.

Each hard suck sent pleasure sparking down Cassian’s nerves. Even with his eyes half-closed and his breaths coming in gasps, a part of Cassian was thinking about how many of his weapons he could reach, how quickly he could end Fett if he needed to. He was vaguely disgusted by the way he couldn’t turn it off, but at least this was an Imperial lackey, at least he had a _reason_ to be thinking this way. 

Then Fett twisted his hand and the barest hint of teeth brushed against Cassian’s cock. Cassian yelped and clutched at Fett’s head. He was getting close and he was about to give a warning when Fett pulled away. Cassian groaned in frustration and had to force himself to let go as Fett stood.

'What's that about?' Cassian snapped.

Fett shrugged, looking unruffled and vaguely pleased with himself. 'You said you didn't want this to be easy.'

'You're an asshole.'

'Funny thing is I haven't been, but since you've kept insisting, I've decided to earn it.' Fett's smirk had picked up a nasty edge and that simmering anger was back in his eyes. 

Cassian's heart rate picked up, the threat of that smirk was all tangled together with the promise of sex. He wanted bite at Fett's mouth and rut against each other until he'd forgotten why he was here with a bounty hunter and not someone else. Until he'd forgotten his own name.

'Get over here,' Cassian said and punctuated the statement by grabbing Fett's shoulders and pulling him in close. The resulting kiss lasted a heartbeat before Fett wrapped his hands around Cassian's wrists and pinned them against the wall. Cassian automatically twisted his dominant wrist toward Fett's thumb and broke the grip. He grabbed at Fett's throat, fighting himself not to squeeze and turn it into a real fight. 'Don't,' he said instead, low and dangerous.

Fett bared his teeth in something like a smile and let go of Cassian's other hand in favour of seizing the one at his throat. 'Fine. Let go.'

Cassian held his hand there a moment too long to be polite, but he let go. His cock was throbbing from the feel of restrained violence coiling between them and from Fett’s earlier ministrations. 

‘I’m surprised you didn’t just pull me off,’ he said. ‘An Imperial sympathiser like you has a lot of reasons not to want a Rebel with their fingers over your pulse-point.’

‘It’s not much of a problem. I think idealists are _cute_ ,’ Fett said, his smile far too mocking to make it anything other than an insult. Cassian growled, surprised at the way the harsh sound slipped out of him without conscious thought. ‘In fact,’ Fett continued as if Cassian hadn’t reacted, ‘that’s one of the reasons I’m here. That, and you have the prettiest eyes.’

Cassian felt heat sweep through him. Separating out the anger and lust was nearly impossible so he didn’t bother to try. He reached out and grabbed Fett between the legs, squeezing just on the edge of too hard. Fett swore and jerked forward into Cassian’s grip. Wasting no time, Cassian tugged at the fastenings of Fett’s pants until he could reach past the layers of clothes to wrap his fingers around Fett’s cock, skin to skin. 

Fett was hot and heavy in his hand with just a hint of wetness beginning to form at the tip. Cassian squeezed again and ran his thumb over the head. The resulting moan was fiercely satisfying. It was important, in a way Cassian couldn’t quite explain, for Fett to be affected, to feel this just as much. He started stroking, going as rough and fast as he’d handle himself.

Fett braced himself against the wall with both hands and his head hung down between them. In another context Cassian might have felt boxed in, but with his hand on Fett’s cock and the faintest tremor visible in Fett’s arms, he felt in control. 

‘Look at me,’ Cassian demanded.

Fett lifted his head. There was a faint flush on his cheeks, but his eyes were focused and his sharp gaze stole Cassian’s breath. One corner of Fett’s lips quirked up in response to whatever he saw in Cassian’s expression. Again, that grating amusement. Cassian surged forward and crushed his lips against that infuriating smirk. Fett responded immediately, his head tilting to one side, the angle prefect for a slide of lips and teeth. There was a strange sense of grace about it, the way Fett analysed, reacted and then aligned his body.

Cassian abandoned the thought as Fett insinuated a hand between them and curled it around his cock. His grip was warm and firm and Cassian rutted into it reflexively. Their lips were still pressed together and there was no way that Fett missed the desperate groan Cassian gave in response.

From there it devolved into the rough movement of calloused fingers over sensitive flesh. Cassian was close after everything that had happened between them. A small part of him was trying to hold off, to see if he could make Fett come first. It didn’t make any logical sense, but his thoughts were careening together in one tangled mess of impulses and pleasure. None of it made much sense.

Then Fett leaned in even closer. ‘Give it up, Rebel,’ he growled in Cassian’s ear. The words hit Cassian hard enough that they might as well have been physical. There was real fear in hearing that from a bounty hunter, but the thrill of it swept through him almost like pleasure. Cassian bucked hard into Fett’s hand, giving a choked moan as he came. The accompanying shudder was only partially from his orgasm. 

‘Don’t kriff with me, Fett,’ Cassain snapped as soon as he’d got his breath back.

‘You… seemed to like it,’ Fett panted.

Cassian bared his teeth and tightened his grip on Fett’s cock. It earned him a sharp gasp, which at least shut Fett up. Cassian sped up as Fett’s gasps became little involuntary noises of pleasure. There was no more amusement in Fett’s expression now and Cassian was fascinated by the change. His eyes traced the movement of Fett's throat as he swallowed and on impulse Cassian leaned forward and bit down lightly over the rapid pulse just under his jaw.

Fett cried out and simultaneously pressed himself against Cassian’s hand and the teeth in his neck. A second later his hand was on Cassian’s chin, shoving him back. Cassian let himself be pushed away and contented himself with watching Fett’s face contort as he came.

Cassian removed his hand from Fett’s pants and wiped it off with a scrap of cloth. Fett was still panting as he recovered, but he was focused enough to glare. ‘Payback, huh?’

Cassian smirked. ‘You seemed to like it.’ 

Fett snorted, but didn’t say anything further.

The first thing Cassian did after pulling his pants up was head over to the door to retrieve his weapons belt. The skin between his shoulder blades itched, even though he could hear Fett moving his armour and putting it on. Cassian felt better the moment he laid his hands on the belt and by the time he’d fastened it and turned around he almost felt comfortable.

Fett was fiddling with the last clasps on his chest-plate, but he’d left his helmet off for now. He looked up at Cassian once he’d settled the last piece of body-armour.

‘You want Stavud’s coordinates, hand over the credits,’ said Cassian.

Fett nodded and tossed over a pouch. Cassian caught it, surprised at the lightness. He stared for a moment when he opened it. It had been a long time since he'd seen denominations that big. 

‘You just carry that much on you?’

Fett shrugged. ‘As I said, it’s rare for someone to be able to steal from me. Last person who tried walked away with broken fingers.’

Cassian’s expression darkened, but he got out his datapad and opened the relevant file. ‘I put a tracker on Stavud’s ship when she first started dealing with the Rebellion. Since she ran, the signal’s been going to some pretty exotic places. I’ll patch you in to the signal frequency.’

Fett raised an eyebrow. ‘Resourceful. I was wondering how you could guarantee an up-to-date location.’ He brought his arm up and flipped a panel in his armour. ‘Alright, give me the frequency.’ Cassian did and even had Fett repeat it back to make sure he’d gotten it.

Cassian hesitated once the information had changed hands. He was keenly aware of Fett’s blaster on his belt. He didn’t like the idea of handing it straight over, even with Fett’s _reputation for fair dealing_. It felt wrong, having someone else with a weapon in their hand when he didn’t, but he doubted Fett would take it well if he drew his own blaster for the hand-over. 

‘I’ll leave your blaster on the table. You can pick it up when I’m gone,’ Cassian said. He also didn’t like the idea of turning his back on Fett again, but it was better than the alternative.

Fett tilted his head. ‘Or you could return it properly. If you can lift it from me, I’m pretty sure you know how to put it back.’

Cassian narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like Fett’s smirk at all. ‘You trust me that far?’

‘I told you, I think idealists are cute.’

A flash of anger returned, but it was duller this time. He knew Fett was trying to push at him and two could play at that. Cassian drew Fett’s blaster, keeping it nice and casual down by his side. Fett’s grin widened as Cassian approached. Instead of getting in his face, Cassain stepped around and got behind Fett’s back. Fett drew a sharp breath and Cassian only caught it because he was standing so close, with his chest pressed against Fett’s back. It was a good sound and Cassian smiled as he snaked a hand around Fett’s waist and slipped the blaster back into its holster. There was another hitch of breath from Fett. Cassian couldn’t resist a parting bite to the side of Fett’s neck.

‘There’s your kriffing blaster,’ Cassian said directly into Fett’s ear.

‘Thanks,’ said Fett, his voice a little rougher. Cassian stepped away and Fett turned to face him. ‘You know, if the rest of your little Rebels have half the guts you do, maybe you’ll actually win some day.’

‘And that wouldn’t make a single difference to you, would it?’

‘Nah, but just in case…’ Fett opened accessed the datapad on his wrist again and typed something. ‘That’s a frequency you can contact me on, if your Rebels ever need to commission a professional.’

Cassian resolved to reconfigure his datapad’s access channels as soon as Fett was out of sight. ‘You have to know that we’re not going to do that.’

‘I know,’ Fett said with one last infuriating smirk. ‘In fact I doubt you’ll even pass it on to your superiors. But maybe you’ll keep it.’ With that, he turned his back and left. 

Cassian watched him go and after a good few minutes had passed he pulled out his datapad and reconfigured it. He hesitated, but in the end he saved Fett’s channel. With the type of work he did for the Rebellion, Cassian had learned that it was worth keeping every bit of information he could uncover, no matter how irrelevant it seemed at the time.


End file.
